My great-grandson took me out to the ballgame. I could smell the grass and taste the PeaNots... the kid's rig was broadcasting with Googlenet sharpness. I rubbed my fingertips together as subtly as possible, knowing that Sam's shadowy avatar seated next to me wouldn't approve of all the options I was turning off. Enough ads vanished to make the blue sky visible: the stadium's retractable roof, a design requirement since the 21st century, wouldn't need to be closed.